Presentable Liberty - A Tale in New York
by Admin Shadowblade
Summary: Mark Jones wakes up in a jail cell with no memory of how he got there or what he had done to get there. A series of strange letters tells him of the outside world...and what is destroying it. Can he escape in time to save the world, and himself? OCs are not mine. Mark Jones has no relation to and is not based off of Markiplier. Rated T for language.


**A/N – HELLO HELLO HELLO! I AM YOUR OWN PERSONAL HAPPY-BUDDY™! Not really, but close enough, eh? Anyway, this is a fanfic that uses OCs by other people. My own OCs are not even mentioned. This is loosely based off of a game called Presentable Liberty. If you have not played it, DO NOT PLAY IT! IT WILL GIVE AWAY MAJOR SPOILERS! That being said, ON WITH THE SHOW!**

CHAPTER ONE

Mark yawned and stretched beneath the covers of his bed. Even with his eyes shut tight, he could tell that morning had come. He stretched his arms so far that his knuckles touched the cool metal of his bedroom walls.

Wait.

His eyes snapped open. His walls weren't metal. He sat up and looked at the white blanket that he was under, and the gray bed he was on.

His bed wasn't gray…

He looked around, frantic. Instead of waking up in the comfort of his New York home, he was somewhere he never thought he'd be: a jail cell.

He examined the room closely. It was a medium-sized rectangular room which held only the bed he sat in, a metal door, a loudly ticking clock, a piece of broken wire that was connected to the wall, and a tiny widow that was centered over the head of the bed. He threw the covers off quickly and stood up. He was wearing all of his normal clothes, even shoes. He shook his head.

'This can't be happening…' He thought to himself, 'It's a dream..It HAS to be a dream.' He pinched his arm in hopes of waking up, bit no good. He tried again and again before that part of his skin was stinging. He slapped himself, shook his head violently, even pounded his fist against the wall, but everything was just too real to be a dream.

As he was starting to panic, he heard a rustling sound as a letter was slid into the room through a rectangular slot built into the bottom of the door. He blinked and walked over to the metal door and peered out of the barred window.

No one.

He backed away from the door in confusion, then looked down at the letter at his feet.

The envelope was crumpled and slightly dirty, with his name on the front. He carefully picked it up and turned it over in his hand. It had a certain smell to it, like forest trees after a light rain. He eagerly opened it up, hoping it would answer the many questions in his mind. The writing was neat, yet was scrawled slightly, as if written by a free spirit and an excited hand. He read it silently.

"My dear friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. How is prison life going for you? I know it must be hard, especially in times like these. As for me, I will soon start another of my journeys into the unknown. Wish me luck.

-David the traveler"

Mark felt like he was slapped in the face. How could he forget his best friend, David? But now he had more questions than answers. How did David know he was here? Why was he going on some adventure instead of helping him escape? He sighed and put the letter on the bed. What the hell was going on?! He grasped the bars and called out into the hallway.

"Hello?! Anyone there?!" No response.

He sighed and was about to turn around when something caught his eye. He looked a little down the hallway to see another door.

A regular, white door.

Not a cell door.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, I get it guys. This is a prank. Haha, very funny. Who put you up to this, Emma? Well you can tell her that she can kiss my-"

A rustling sound, and a letter at his feet. He jumped back in shock.

"What the hell….?" He was right there at the door, yet he saw no one. He hesitantly picked it up and opened it.

"Friend,

I hope you aren't feeling too lonely in that dark cell. Just in case, I have put a little bug friend for you in the envelope alongside this letter.

-David."

Mark looked down at the floor where he had tossed the envelope. Not far from it was a small, black bug, no bigger than a quarter. He rolled his eyes.

"Gee, thanks. Just what I always wanted." He turned back to the door. "Alright, guys, you can cut it out now. I've had enough." Silence. He frowned. "Come on guys, this isn't funny. Now let me out." Still nothing except the ticking on the clock. Mark stood there, confused. This wasn't like them. They would've opened the door. They would've laughed. Something, anything.

But no, just silence. A chill went down his spine as he finally faced the truth:

This was no joke.

This was no dream.

This was actually happening.

He looked around, panicked, as he searched for a way out, though he was interrupted by another letter.

This one was far more professional-looking. It was in a manilla envelope with a big, red TOP SECRET stamp on it. He opened it curiously.

The stationary was purely white, and the text was typed in all caps instead of handwritten.

"GOOD DAY. WE ARE HAPPY TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED BY ME, DOCTOR MONEY, TO JOIN AN EXCLUSIVE PROGRAM FOR INMATES ALL OVER THE COUNTRY."

Mark blinked in surprise. Who was this Doctor Money? What exclusive program? He read on.

"WE HAVE NOTICED THAT DUE TO THE RECENT OUTBREAK OF A TERRIBLE VIRUS THE POPULATION OF OUR BEAUTIFUL NATION IS DWINDLING. THIS IS UNFORTUNATE. BUT THERE IS STILL HOPE: YOU.

RECENT STUDIES HAVE SHOWN THAT 98% OF OUR GREAT NATION HAD ALREADY BEEN INFECTED BY THE VIRUS. INCIDENTALLY, MANY OF THE REMAINING 2% ARE PRISON INMATES LIKE YOU. WE HOPE THAT YOU CONTINUE TO BE VIGILANT AND REMAIN HEALTHY.

IN ORDER TO FIGHT DEPRESSION AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS IN THE DIRE SITUATION YOU HAVES FOUND YOURSELF IN, YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED YOUR OWN PERSONAL HAPPY-BUDDY™. ENJOY!"

Mark simply started at the letter and read it over again. His head started to hurt from it all. Doctor Money? Virus? Happy-buddy? What the HELL was going on? He was so busy trying to clear his thoughts that he didn't notice the large, blue envelope slide under the door.

When he finally looked down at the letter, he was taken aback at how bright the color was. He opened the letter and was even MORE surprised at the stationary. It was a light yellow with autumn leaves around the edge, making it look like a child's design. The handwriting was strange and erotic, but still legible. He read it over curiously.

"Hello Hello Hello! I am your own personal Happy-Buddy™! I have a present for you! FIVE CONFETTI POPPERS! HAVE FUN!"

Mark reached into the envelope and pulled out five small confetti poppers, each a different color. He pulled the red one, and multicolored confetti sprayed into the air, then drifted to the ground. Mark chuckled and pocketed the remaining four. The small bug that David had given him crawled over the rainbow pieces of paper. Another blue letter slid under the door.

"Hello my buddy friend buddy! Did you like the confetti? If so, I have another present for you!"

Mark smiled. Maybe being in this weird jail cell wasn't too bad. He got free presents, after all. Another blue letter came to him, this one slightly thicker.

"It's a Doctor Money Portable Entertainment Machine! Game included! Have lots of fun! "

Mark reached into the envelope and pulled out a Gameboy-looking device. Turning it on, he found a pre-downloaded game called 'Serpent'. It was basically just like Centipede, except controlling the snake was much harder, and as he progressed, the levels became more and more challenging. He was so focused on beating the game that he didn't notice the dirty, crumpled letter that was slid under the door. When he had finally given up on the game, he recognized the letter as one of David's, and eagerly opened it.

"Mark,

I have started my journey in the far east with no clear goal in mind. On the road I met a nice woman who gave me directions to the nearest lake. You know how much I love swimming.

The lake is beautiful. It is so peaceful and quiet here. Have you ever been so alone that you cannot convince yourself of the fact that other people exist anymore?

-David."

He nodded to himself. "Yeah, I can think of a few times…" He mumbled to himself. He had just set it on the bed when another letter was slid to him.

"Mark,

I have a present for you. It's a painting that always reminds me of the spirit of travel. I hope it livens up your cell a little bit.

-David."

Mark unfurled the attached painting and hung it up on the wall where his bed was. He smiled to himself. It was so full of vibrant color; greens, blues, and yellows mixed effectively to create a wonderful work of art. It really did liven up his cell.

Rustling, and another blue letter. Mark picked it up, starting to get into the rhythm of things. It was from his Happy-Buddy.

"Hey Buddy! If You're Feeling Down, Maybe A Song Will Help! Lalalala Happy Lalalala Glad To Lalalala Be Alive Lalalala!"

Mark stared down at the letter. Was this man even mentally sane? It sure didn't seem like it to Mark…

As if to confirm his suspicions, another blue letter was slid to him.

"HaHaHaHaHaHa! That Was Fun Wasn't It? I Hope You Keep A Smile In Your Heart Always, For You Are Smart And Kind And Important."

He smiled with pride. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but you know… I guess my reputation precedes me." He chuckled. Yeah, this wasn't too bad.

Then the letter came. Mark recognized this one as one from Doctor Money. He opened it up and read it curiously.

"GOOD DAY, MISTER KIRKLAND."

Mark blinked. Mister Kirkland? He read on.

"WE HAVE NOTICED THAT YOUR HAVE NOT MEET YOUR HAPPINESS QUOTA YET. REMEMBER: YOU WILL ONLY GET TO SEE YOUR DAUGHTERS AGAIN IF YOU MANAGE TO LOWER THE SUICIDE RATES IN PRISON."

Mark's jaw dropped in shock and confusion. "What the hell…..? Happiness quota?! Daughters?!" Questions traced through his mind at several miles an hour. However, another letter was slid to him as if to answer his questions.

"DEAR MARK,

WE MAY HAVE ACCIDENTALLY SENT YOU A LETTER ADDRESSED TO A CERTAIN MISTER KIRKLAND. WE WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT THIS MISTAKE HAS BEEN RECTIFIED AND THAT YOUR HAPPY-BUDDY REALLY DOES LIKE YOU AND IS YOUR BEST FRIEND PURELY BECAUSE YOU ARE SO FRIENDLY."

Mark was now even more shocked. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. This Mister Kirkland guy had to be his Happy-Buddy, though Mark sensed something foul at play. Something was not right. A Happy-Buddy letter slid under the door.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! How Are You Doing?"

These notes were clearly not written by any sane person. He read on.

"I'm Feeling Soooooooooooo Great! You Are My Bestest Friendliest Best Friend In The Whole Wide World!"

Mark shook his head. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. Everything was going in circles.

Tossing the letter to the side, Mark yawned. It had gotten pretty late quickly. He turned to hop into his bed, when a final letter slid under the door. Mark picked it up. David. He smiled and opened it.

"Mark,

If my calculations are correct, this letter should arrive at your cell right around bedtime. I hope those prison beds are comfortable. Sleep well.

-David."

Mark tucked the letter away and climbed into the bed. His mind was pretty much exhausted from a long day of nothing but endless questions. But those would all be answered tomorrow.

Right?

He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the ticking of the clock.


End file.
